


We're Going Steady (Like It's 1954)

by jaegersaint



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beach Episode basically, Coming of Age, Fluff, Multi, Underage Drinking, but also feels, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaegersaint/pseuds/jaegersaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day of Eren’s 21st starts off rather uneventfully, but by sunset it just might turn out to be the most memorable of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Going Steady (Like It's 1954)

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from Tumblr. The song Levi and Eren dance to is "Tattooed Heart" by Ariana Grande, and the title of the story was derived from the lyrics of the song. For maximum feels, I highly suggest listening to it. :)

   The morning of Eren’s 21st birthday is a loud, hazy blur. Though it’ll be nice to have the old gang reunited again since they scattered to the four winds after high school, he doesn’t know which of them will even be able to make the trip back to their sleepy little town, and the prospect of finally being able to drink legally holds little appeal because he’s had no trouble getting booze since he was sixteen and besides, he’s not a huge drinker anyway.  
  
   It’s a little before midday when Mikasa barges into his room and yanks the covers off him, forcing him to curl into a fetal position from the light breeze drifting in through the partly open windows, and before he can feel around for the blankets she’s already pulling open the blinds and yelling at him to get dressed because Jean’s their ride to the beach and he won’t wait around forever.  
  
   After a quick breakfast-turned-lunch that very nearly devolves into a food fight if not for Mikasa’s intervention, the three of them pile into Jean’s dad’s old Chevy and stop by the liquor store for a couple 24-packs before heading down to the beach. Bert, Reiner and Marco are already there, punctual as always, and after the boys go round in a circle exchanging manly claps on the back, Eren stays to help set up the barbecue while Jean goes with Mikasa to unload food from the trunk.  
  
  He gets a birthday phonecall from Armin and Annie, who were unfortunately too busy preparing to go on exchange, and the boys regale him with crazy stories of their varsity club shenanigans. Not for the first time, Eren catches himself wishing he’d just gone the typical college route, instead of settling for the local community college to appease his parents before he enlists in the army later this year.  
  
   His thoughts get totally derailed as he’s nearly bowled over by an enthusiastic Sasha, who envelops him in a tight bear hug and cheerfully exclaims her birthday wishes. Connie comes bounding up to them shortly after, one arm hooked around the boombox on his shoulder and the other wrapped around the picnic rug Eren was half expecting he’d forget to bring.  
  
   Ymir and Christa are the last to arrive, but considering they came all the way from the other side of the country, Eren’s just glad they could make it at all. He and the boys finally get the barbecue going, Mikasa and Sasha hand out the beers (that only half of them are legal for), Connie flicks through his CD collection and puts on the _Beastie Boys_ of all things, and it isn’t long before they’re all down to their swimsuits and boardshorts playing some bastardised version of beach volleyball in between bites of sausage and sips of Bud Light.  
  
   Eren is re-oiling the grill when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns around, his breath hitching in his throat as he receives a hug from the new arrival to their party.  
  
   “Happy birthday,” Isabel breathes, clutching him tighter as he leans in to her and squeezing the air right out of his lungs.  
  
   “Uh..thanks,” he huffs out, patting her back lightly. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming today.”  
  
    She pulls back suddenly, mouth agape in a look of utter scandal.  
  
    “And miss out on your _birthday?_ Gosh, Eren, I can’t believe you’d think so low of me. I thought we were practically family!”  
  
    Eren chuckles, throwing his arms up in appeasement. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t sure if this was a bit too far from your new place. How did you get here, anyway? Wait - lemme guess. You conned Farlan into driving you again.”  
  
   She glances back at him from where she’s rummaging around in the cooler, grinning mischievously. “Isn’t that what boyfriends are for?”  
  
   Eren rolls his eyes. “Only whipped ones like yours. And hey! What do you think you’re doing? Hand it over.” He reaches her in two long strides, twisting the beer can out of her grasp and waving it high above his head as she tries to jump for it.  
  
   “Come on, killjoy! I’m frigen seventeen!” she whines, lunging forward as Eren runs backwards away from her.  
  
   “Nope. What would your brother say?” he asks, whipping around to avoid her clumsy swipe and hiding the can behind his back.  
  
   “Who cares? He isn’t even here.” She stops with a quiet little stomp, glaring petulantly up at him.  
  
   Eren, too, stops dead in his tracks.  
  
   Isabel’s eyes widen, her frown slipping right off her face. “Sorry, Eren, I wasn’t thinking…” she murmurs.  
  
   “It’s ok, don’t sweat it,” he says, turning around quickly to throw the beer back in the open cooler and using the few seconds to school his expression. “Hey, why don’t you go play volleyball with the others? I’m still working on the grill, you can fill in for me.”  
  
   She smiles at him, eyes soft. “Okay, let us know if you need help. Happy birthday again.” She leaps into his arms, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and hurries away.  
  
   Come sunset, there’s hardly anything left of the beer save a few cans and the grill is just dying embers giving off a faint glow in the fast-approaching twilight. Someone suggests they light a bonfire, which they somehow manage to get started despite everyone (even Isabel - _especially_ Isabel) barely able to walk two steps in a straight line. Amazingly, someone is still aware enough to question whether bonfires are even allowed on this beach, but the problem with being the most sober person in a group is they’ll just hand you another drink and egg you on if you’re still talking sense.  
  
   One by one they drop like flies in a lazy circle around the fire. A disjointed chorus of _“To Eren!"_ rings in the air as they down the last of the beer, laughing and singing and making impromptu speeches, shrill voices piling one atop the other. It’s warm, and nice - it feels like the good old days but also different, a little nerve-wracking, like leaning over the edge of a gusty cliff bundled up in a well-worn sweater. Through the euphoric blur of it all, Eren is surprised to find he’s selfishly wishing things could stay just as they were right now.  
  
  “How about when this loser got thrown out by the bouncers the first time we took him clubbing?” Jean yells, and half of them are already howling with laughter before he even stops talking. “He was so sloshed he got up on stage and started wiggling out of his fucking pants.”  
   
   “Oh hell no, not this shit again,” Eren groans, throwing a worried glance over at Isabel. He has half a mind to run over to her and clap his hands around her ears. But she’s doubled over, one hand clutching Sasha’s shoulder in a vicegrip, cheeks glowing pink in the firelight, and well. Eren supposes it’s worth the humiliation to see her laugh like that.  
   
   “Fuck yeah, hey Connie! Turn it up, would ya?” Ymir suddenly shouts as _Hey Ya_ begins to blast from the boombox. She gets up and offers her hand to Christa, who beams as she lets herself be hauled to her feet and the two of them stumble from side to side mouthing the words to each other, which apparently looks like fun to everyone else because they soon pair off in twos and threes and the space around the bonfire becomes a makeshift dance floor.  
   
   Eren is still the man of the moment, it seems, letting himself get tugged from person to person and gradually shuffling his way through his friends to the rhythm of each new song. He can’t help but be thankful that his pulse is pounding a mile a minute because it’s been a long time since he’s felt this loved, and if he slows down now he just might do something spectacularly stupid like cry.  
   
   Moonlight is shimmering across the water and the stars are out in full force by the time they’ve worked their way through a fair chunk of Connie’s 90s playlist. Eren is giving everything he’s got into the last few bars of _I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing_ , when Mikasa and Isabel slip out from under his arms and slowly walk away from him. He watches them move off to one side, hands hovering at their backs in puzzlement. He whips his head around and sees everyone else walk off their improvised dance floor, and he’s about to ask them what the hell is going on when he notices they’re all staring at something behind him. Isabel suddenly looks like she’s torn between bursting into laughter or tears, and Eren wheels around to find out what could possibly have caused her to react this way.  
   
    For one full, silent second, his heart stops.  
   
    Standing a few feet away from him, still in uniform and looking every bit as gut-wrenchingly beautiful as the day he left, is Levi.  
   
    Levi, the singular idol of his adolescent existence.  
  
    Levi, his boyfriend of nearly five years.  
   
    Levi, who boarded a ship two and a half years ago with the rest of the navy, who wasn’t meant to come home for at least another six months.  
   
   Eren sucks in a breath, and with only the slightest quiver of his leg, takes one step forward.  
   
   Levi does the same.  
   
   Little by little they close the gap between them, as if each tentative step could erase the endless months of loneliness and longing and five-minute phone calls stolen in odd hours of the night.  
   
    When they finally meet each other halfway, and Levi is so close he could lean down and kiss him, he’s at a total loss. How much of this man remembers what it’s like to be touched by him? To have his taste on his lips?  
  
   “Hey kiddo,” Levi murmurs. His lips curl up slightly at the corners, and something in the glimmer of his eyes makes Eren suddenly feel like no time has passed at all.  
  
    “I’m twenty-one. It’s about time you stopped calling me that,” he gets out at last.  
   
    “Oh? You still look like a brat to me. Bet you still sleep in those tacky Spiderman shorts from five years ago.”  
   
    “I was hoping all that sailing would’ve softened you up but nope, you’re as anal as ever.”  
   
    “Shut up and kiss already!” Someone yells, and Eren is only mildly surprised to see Farlan grinning broadly at them, a slightly teary Isabel clinging to his arm. That would explain how Levi managed to get here so quickly from the harbour.  
   
     His eyes are drawn back to his boyfriend, whose body is now pressed flush against his and whose arm is cradling his neck.  
   
    “Better give these guys a show, hm?” He asks, and presses their lips together.  
   
    He runs his hands along Levi’s body, warm and solid in his arms. He has always been strong, all firm lines and taut muscle, but now his movements hint at a ruggedness that was missing when they kissed each other goodbye at the docks more than two years ago. It’s foreign in a way that’s both terrifying and exhilarating, but as their mouths begin to slide in tandem he finds that Levi’s kiss tastes the same way it always has, and the familiarity of it fills his heart to bursting.  
   
   The people around them erupt into wild cheers and catcalls that have his ears ringing long after they’ve broken apart. As they stand together out of breath, lips red and foreheads touching, something reminiscent of 50s doo-wop music begins to play from the boombox, and Levi laughs.  
  
   “Who the hell put my sister in charge of the music?” he asks, throwing an accusatory look at Isabel.  
   
   “It’s Eren’s birthday, you have to dance with him!” She shoots back.  
   
   Levi rolls his eyes, even as he snakes his arms around Eren’s waist and pulls him closer.  
   
   “Lucky she picked a slow song because I know you’re hopeless at this,” he says.  
  
   “You sure about that? I learned a few things while you were gone, you know,” Eren teases, trying his best to look as confident as he sounds. The way Levi grins up at him has his stomach flip-flopping harder than ever.  
   
   They sway to one side first, then the other, bobbing clumsily along with the rise and fall of the music. It isn’t graceful, not even close, but Eren just buries his nose in Levi’s shoulder and lets the sand and the sea and the sky fall away beneath them.  
   
    The two of them take a stroll around the beach sometime later, eventually coming to rest atop a cliff with the blustery sea roaring directly below. They’re settled on top of the picnic rug, a blanket draped over their shoulders (bless Mikasa for her superhuman foresight), the light of the full moon giving everything an other-worldly sheen. The only things that can be heard over the rumble of the water are the faint voices of their friends gathered in and around their cars some distance away, and their own even breaths mingling with the ocean air.  
   
   “Tell me about the places you’ve been,” Eren coaxes as his fingers skim along Levi’s forearm, pale as alabaster when he first set off but now burnished a light bronze from his time under the sun.  
   
   “We’ve been back and forth the Atlantic a few times. Got to see a bit of Europe, but didn’t stay anywhere too long. South America was a nice change. Stopped over at Sydney for a while, you’d have loved it there. The weather’s great.”  
   
   “Sounds like you’ve been all over the place. No wonder it was so hard to get ahold of you most of the time.”  
   
   Levi says nothing for a while, just looks out into the water, eyes roaming slowly across the horizon.  
   
   “Sure missed you though,” he says at last, turning to Eren and looking him right in the eyes. He feels bare under that gaze, rubbed raw and given a new skin, and the urge to touch Levi is so overwhelming he leans in and claims his lips with an almost vicious urgency.  
   
   Shivers are running like currents up and down their bodies when they pull apart for air, and Eren suspects it has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the molten arousal smouldering to life between them.  
     
   “If you miss me so much, maybe you should get my name tattooed on yourself. It’s sailor tradition, isn’t it?” Eren asks, smiling coyly.  
   
   Levi snorts. “Don’t even start,” he says, moving to unbutton his shirt. Eren is about to stop him, tell him as much as he wants to that they can’t risk catching cold out here, when Levi turns to him, baring his left shoulder.  
   
   In the pale light of the moon, Eren gets a good look at the swallow resting just below Levi’s collarbone. He may not know much, but he’s been curious enough about sailor tradition to know the significance of the small bird.  
   
   Hope. Loyalty. A promise to return to the ones you love.  
   
   “It’s perfect,” he breathes, tracing the lines reverently with his fingertips.  
   
   “You can come with me to get the other side done when I get back,” Levi says.  
   
   “Yeah…yeah, that’d be good. I’m hoping I’ll be around for that. Cause you know, I’m enlisting later this year.”  
   
   Levi’s face clouds over, lips curving downwards in a grim line.  
  
   “It’s hard, Eren. Harder than you can imagine. Even in training, the dropout rate can be as high as ninety percent.”  
   
   Eren sighs, takes both of Levi’s hands in his. “I know that. But Levi, besides you, this is the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my life. I have to try.”  
   
   Somehow, the look Levi gives him makes him feel both damned and invaluably precious. Levi raises his hand, brushing his fingers lightly along the curve of Eren's jaw.  
   
  “There’s no stopping you when you get that look in your eyes,” is all he says.  
   
 Eren leans into his touch and smiles.  
   
   In a few days, everyone will go their separate ways once more, back to their own lives to face their own challenges. There will be hundreds of miles between him and Mikasa, a continent between him and Armin, oceans between him and the love of his life.  
  
   But not just yet.  
  
   There is still tonight.  
  
   Tonight belongs to them.

**Author's Note:**

> A note about the swallow tattoo: When Levi says Eren can come to “get the other side done when he gets back”, he’s referring to the sailor tradition of having one swallow tattooed before their journey, and the other upon returning to their home port, in celebration of their homecoming. Because swallows come back to the same location every year with their mate to nest, it was believed that the swallow tattoo would guarantee the sailor returns home safely.


End file.
